


Agony and Ecstasy

by ssscrimesomethingorother



Category: Tim Curry - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Heavy Angst, master Tim - Freeform, missing daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 13:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18315857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssscrimesomethingorother/pseuds/ssscrimesomethingorother
Summary: Just some feels I had to get out. He's gone and you're breaking apart.





	Agony and Ecstasy

You were in a cavern of despair. A chasm of depression with an unfathomable depth. You needed to escape but you simply did not possess neither the strength nor the willingness to do so. It was all you knew in times such as these. 

The aching loneliness that choked you in the dark of the night, the paralysing sense of loss that smothered you. Hopelessness squeezed your broken heart before clawing its way out of you, the sweet agony just painful enough to dull the screams of anguish reverberating in your head. 

Curled up under the mass of blankets like a fetus in the womb, pitiful tears made tracks on your pallid cheeks as they unapologetically fell in a constant stream of wordless heartache. 

Cradling yourself with your arms, you felt nothing and yet you felt everything, all at once. Emptiness, dejection and despondency circled like vultures, suffocating you as they feasted on your thoughts. 

This was your deepest, darkest nightmare. 

It was an unknown yet familiar unlit path on which you always walked alone, afraid and unable to find the light. So close, within touching distance but you never wanted to reach out for anything or to anyone. 

With one exception.

His was the hand that pulled you out from the depths, the one who replaced the emptiness with a sense of fulfillment. His arms were those who held you close, protecting you from the world outside the window. He soothed your pain and made your destructive thoughts dissipate with a few simple words. “I love you,” he'd whisper softly into your ear and suddenly the overwhelming weight would disappear. He was your lifeline and your support. He was your world, your reason for living. Your only reason. 

He lifted you up, he held you, he made you want to go on living. He was nourishment for your damaged soul, he was the only one you needed. The one constant in your life.

Your wounded thoughts never ceased telling you that you didn't deserve him, that he was too good of a man. Nevertheless, he showed you every day how much you meant to him. He showered you with love, he caressed you with undying tenderness and he made love to you with such burning passion that your soul would almost explode with the sheer ecstasy. 

You were a slave to his touch, an addict to his every action. The highs you experienced when you were with him made you feel strong and indestructible. Nothing could hurt you while he was there next to you. 

Now he was not by your side. He'd had to travel for work and when he left, the immediate sense of loss you felt was like a death, a dagger to your fractured heart. 

You yearned for his touch, for him to hold you close and whisper into your hair that it was going to be alright. You simply could not survive without him. He was everything. 

You drifted off into a fitful sleep and you jerked awake upon hearing the unmistakable sound of the front door closing. A smile crept along your face as you heard movement on the stairs.   
The door to the bedroom opened and there he stood. All salt and pepper curls and that wonderful beard to match which made you shiver whenever it whispered on your skin. His green eyes were shining with emotion as he looked at you, the stunning smile on his full and skilled mouth wrenching you back from the brink. 

He held out his arms to you and you ran to him and jumped, clinging to him like a child as you repeated one word over and over and over:

“Tim.”


End file.
